After Jono
by Jordan Trevor
Summary: You can feel hurt as deeply as you can feel joy. And after Jono is gone, Picard deals with his own lingering feelings. This story is set after the episode "Suddenly Human."


**After Jono**

**Author's Note: **This was originally published in 1992 in the fanzine _Eridani 18_.

**Disclaimer:** The crew of the _Enterprise_ doesn't belong to me.

Jean-Luc Picard sat impatiently in a chair in front of Beverly Crusher's desk, awaiting the doctor's return. His shoulder ached, throbbed terribly, and yet it didn't hurt near as much as the tight, constricted feeling in the center of his chest. The pain intensified with every ragged breath.

He missed the boy, a difficult thing to admit to himself, but he did. It hurt, not only physically, but emotionally, as well. A pain that was compounded by the fact that there was no one he could tell, no one who would understand.

After Jono had left the ship, Crusher had insisted that Picard report to Sickbay. She'd virtually ordered him to climb back into bed and stay there. And reluctantly, he had. For a day. But enough was enough; there was work to be done.

"What are you doing out of bed?" The voice came from behind him.

He swiveled the chair around. Crusher stood in the doorway, arms folded in front of her, face stem.

"I'm ready to be released," he explained, hoping his voice sounded as authoritative as hers.

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh," then crossed over to her desk, sat on the edge of it. "And you've come to plead for mercy."

"Beverly," he began, voice hard. Then he saw the look in her eyes, and he swallowed, controlled his rising anger. "I feel much better," he continued. "And I really must get back to the bridge."

"I can assure you Will's doing a fine job in your absence."

Picard sighed. "Yes, of course he is, but there's no reason to keep me here any longer."

Crusher studied him for a moment, the deep lines of pain etched around his mouth and eyes, creased across his forehead. He looked as if he were going to pass out at any moment. Knowing that 'you look like hell' wouldn't be the appropriate thing to say, even if it were true, she responded instead with, "You still need rest."

"Fine," he agreed suddenly, sharply. "Whatever you say. But I can rest much better in my own cabin." He shook his head. "I'm just not comfortable here, Beverly," he said softly.

He was hurting. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. "All right," she gave in, "I'll release you on one condition."

He eyed her warily. "Which is?"

"You go straight back to your cabin, eat a good supper, go to bed early, and do not, I repeat, do not report for duty until 0800."

"That's more than one condition." He frowned at her.

Crusher shrugged. "Count them however you like. Just make sure that you follow them."

He nodded. "I will." He rubbed his hands nervously along his thighs. "Am I officially released?"

"Yes, Jean-Luc," she sighed, "you are officially released."

"Thank you." He rose and turned to leave.

"Just one more thing." Her voice stopped him.

He looked back at her. "Yes?" he asked grudgingly.

"If you get to feeling any worse, you call for me."

"Beverly, I feel fine," he stated firmly, then stalked out of her office, favoring his right side ever so slightly.

~vVv~

He groaned, shifted in his bed, trying, unsuccessfully, to find a comfortable position. His last words to Beverly Crusher echoed in his mind, and he regretted them. He did not feel fine. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating, unbearable, so much so that he finally sat up in bed.

"Computer," he spoke to the darkened room, "location of Doctor Crusher?"

"Doctor Crusher is in Sickbay."

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't be disturbing her off duty. "Doctor Crusher," his voice activated the link to Sickbay.

"Crusher here."

Picard hesitated.

"Is that you, Captain?" she queried.

"Yes, it is. I'm... I'm calling for you, Doctor."

This time she hesitated, but then the meaning of his words registered and she responded. "I'm on my way."

~vVv~

Picard had gotten out of bed, pulled on his robe, and was sitting on the edge of the sofa when Crusher entered his cabin a few minutes later. He looked pale and tired, his eyes feverish. And she noted that his left hand was placed protectively on his right upper arm.

"Not so fine, after all, huh?" she commented as she walked toward him, passing by the table and noticing a half-eaten plate of food. She frowned at him.

"I wasn't very hungry," he explained meekly.

She nodded. "And now, I take it, you can't sleep."

He rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly. "It hurts," he mumbled.

Crusher sat down next to him, placed her medical kit on the coffee table, drew a tricorder out of it She ran the instrument over his body.

"It's my shoulder, Beverly," Picard grumbled.

She sighed, set down the tricorder. "Let me take a look." She reached over, pushed back his robe, and carefully ran her fingers over the top right side of his chest. There was still a scar there, but it would fade within a few days. "Does it hurt when I touch it?"

He shook his head. "The pain's deeper."

She considered his words for a moment, then turned away from him and looked in her medical kit She removed a hypo-spray, and Picard watched, apprehensively, as she quickly adjusted the setting on it She turned back and placed it against the side of his neck. He winced as the contents hissed into his skin.

"There. That'll help."

He smiled faintly. "Thank you, Doctor."

Crusher continued to sit there, staring at him. "Now, maybe a good long talk will help sort out the rest of what's bothering you."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, voice suddenly tight.

"Jean-Luc," she reached out, touched his knee, "you're hurting, and I don't mean your shoulder." He tensed, moved his leg, causing her to draw her hand away. "I'm just fine, Beverly, thank you."

"Don't lie to me. I know you too well."

He rose abruptly, walked over to the table. He stood there, his back to her. "Then you know that I'd just as soon you not play counselor with me."

She watched him as he nervously rubbed his fingers across the table top. "I know," she said quietly. "I just thought it might be easier talking to an old friend about it."

He turned and looked at her. "There's nothing to talk about."

Her blue eyes held his gaze. "Are you sure?"

Picard stood there for several more seconds, then exhaled deeply, reached up and rubbed at his eyes with his left hand. "No," he admitted, then walked over and sat down on the sofa again.

She wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him, but she held back. "What's troubling you, Jean-Luc? Is it Jono?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"I thought so. You miss him, don't you?"

Picard chewed nervously at his lower lip, twisted his hands in his lap. "Funny, isn't it? For someone who was never comfortable around children, I am distinctly uncomfortable because he's not here"

Crusher smiled compassionately. "It's all right, you know. To miss him. All right for your heart to hurt because he's gone."

He eyed her sternly. "I didn't say anything about my heart hurting. Cardiac implants don't do that" At any other time, it would have been a joke, but he was serious.

She sighed. "You're so good at denying pain, aren't you?"

He glared at her, eyes blazing. "I called you here for my shoulder, didn't I?"

"I'm not talking about physical pain. I'm talking about emotional grief."

"Oh, good lord," he exclaimed, standing up, beginning to pace back and forth. "First my heart was hurting, and now I'm experiencing grief." His left hand forcefully punctuated the air on every word. "I barely knew the boy."

"Jean-Luc, Jono made you feel things that you never thought you'd have the opportunity to feel."

He stopped his pacing, stared hard at her. "What did he make me feel?" he demanded.

"He made you feel like a father," she returned evenly. "And despite your hard-hearted facade when it comes to children, it was a feeling you enjoyed. A feeling you now miss terribly."

He continued to stare at her for several long moments, then turned away, strode over to his desk. He stood with his back to her, and she could see his shoulders tense, even under the bulky terry cloth robe.

"Well, whether I enjoyed it or not, it is a feeling I shall never feel again."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Oh, Beverly, I'm an old starship captain. I made my choices a long time ago. And fatherhood was not one of them."

"Lighten up. You make it sound as if you have one foot in the grave."

He chuckled unexpectedly, turned toward her. "Lighten up?" He sighed, shook his head. "You push me to the edge sometimes."

"Sometimes you need pushing."

He leaned against his desk, licked his lips, stared up at the ceiling. "I guess I never realized how much I always wanted a child. Always felt uncomfortable around them because I knew I'd never have one of my own. Didn't like being reminded of that fact. Didn't allow myself to think about it. You know, the road not taken." He drew in a deep breath. "But I am reminded. Every time I look at your son, every time I receive a letter from my sister-in-law and she tells me about Rene. And now, every time I remember Jono, I'll think about what could have been had I made different choices in my life."

He blinked several times, and she saw that his cheeks were wet with tears. "Come here," she said softly.

And obediently he came, sat down beside her, didn't pull away when she took his hands in hers. "You would have made a good father, Jean-Luc."

He sighed. "Your son told me that once."

She smiled. "I always suspected Wes was a good judge of character." She hesitated. "Jean-Luc, you mustn't feel as if you've never been a father. Because you have."

"Oh, yes," he answered sarcastically, "I was a substitute father to Jono for all of two days, and not much of one at that"

"I wasn't thinking about Jono. I was thinking about Wesley."

"Wesley?"

"He looks up to you, Jean-Luc."

"As well every ensign should look up to his captain."

Crusher shook her head. "It's more than that. You're the closest thing he's had to a father in these past years."

"No," he protested, "I would say Commander Riker has been more of a father figure to him."

"Will has done a wonderful job. But I think Wes sees him as more of an older brother." She squeezed his hands. "I see a lot of you in Wesley."

Picard narrowed his eyes at her, them swallowed nervously. "When I look at your son, all I see is his father." His voice was husky with emotion.

"I know. He looks just like him." She smiled faintly, hoping to lighten the moment It was still so difficult for Picard, for both of them, to talk about Jack Crusher. And yet sometimes, there were things that had to be said. "But let's face it, Jean-Luc, Wes doesn't act anything like Jack." She laughed, then her face sobered a bit. "He acts like you. Calm, steady."

"Oh," he rasped, "and I am so steady right now."

She rubbed his hands. "Most of the time you are. And you will be again. After a little rest." She looked toward his bedroom door. "Want to try getting some sleep?"

Picard nodded. "I guess." He pulled his hands away, and hastily wiped at his eyes. "Now that my shoulder doesn't hurt anymore."

Crusher reached over and touched the left side of his chest. "Does it still hurt here?"

He laughed slightly. "You just won't give up, will you?"

She shook her head in reply.

"All right," Picard admitted, "it does hurt a little. You don't happen to have a hypo-spray for that pain, do you?"

Crusher moved her hand from his chest to his cheek, rubbed it gently. "I'm afraid not. But you know what they say about time."

"It doesn't heal all the wounds, Beverly," he responded, and she knew he wasn't thinking of Jono.

"Maybe not. But in time, they don't hurt as much." She stood. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

She pulled him up off the sofa, and with one arm wrapped carefully around his shoulders, she walked him into the next room. Picard stopped at the door, and she saw his eyes rivet on the bed before him. She stared also.

Less than two days ago, she'd stood in the very same place, had hesitated for a fraction of a second before hurrying to Picard's bed and finding him almost unconscious, his pale, white face a horrifying contrast to the bright red blood that stained his pajamas. Across from her, Worf had held onto the boy tightly, although Jono hadn't been struggling. He'd just stood there, staring straight ahead, while she and a medic hovered over the captain's body.

Crusher blinked, and the image was gone. She looked at Picard.

His dark green eyes were fastened to the area beside his bed.

"Jean-Luc?" She rubbed her hand over his back, could feel him trembling. "Come on. You need to lie down."

He allowed her to lead him over to the bed and tuck him in, drawing the blankets up around his neck. She sat down beside him, and he looked at her and yawned, then apologized. "Sorry."

She smiled. "There's no reason to apologize. You're tired." She placed her hand on his forehead. "And you may be running a slight fever."

"And you're not going to run that blasted tricorder over me again?"

"I will after you go to sleep. Now close your eyes." He did, and within moments, he drifted off.

~vVv~

Crusher almost dropped her coffee cup when she heard him scream, although she'd been expecting it. He'd had one other nightmare in Sickbay. That's why she'd stayed with him in his cabin even after he'd fallen asleep. Her tricorder had verified that he was running a temperature of 102 degrees, and that, along with his memories of Jono standing over him, holding a Klingon ceremonial dagger, was sure to cause further nightmares.

She set the cup down and hurried into the next room. Picard was sitting straight up in bed, eyes wide open, tears coursing down his cheeks, his breathing labored. Crusher sat beside him, gently taking him in her arms.

"Shh, Jean-Luc." She rocked him slowly, felt him lean his head on her shoulder, his breath warm on her neck. "It was just a dream."

"So real," he murmured.

"I know." She rubbed his back soothingly, reached up with one hand and touched his forehead. He still felt feverish. "It's all right" she whispered.

"Why? Why did he do it?" His voice was hoarse.

Crusher tightened her arm around him. She knew he was talking about Jono. "He was frightened."

Picard drew in a deep shuddering breath, exhaled it slowly. "But why did he hurt me?" He pulled away from her embrace, wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I tried to help him, Beverly." He shook his head, his cheeks still wet with tears.

Crusher knew that Picard understood the boy's confusion, his frustration, the fear that had caused him to lash out violently at the one person on the _Enterprise _that he'd trusted. But she also knew that every time he closed his eyes all he could see was the image of Jono standing above him, the dagger in his hands.

"You did help him, Jean." She ran her fingers gently over his face. "He's all right now. And so are you," she added with a faint smile.

"I don't feel all right," he mumbled, laying his head back down on the pillow. Crusher pulled the blanket closer around him. "You'll feel better in the morning." He shifted, and then frowned as his shoulder twinged with pain. "Beverly?"

"Yes?"

"It hurts to be a parent."

"I know. But it's worth it."

She smoothed her hand over his forehead, and Picard remembered the feel of Jono's head against his, the warmth of the boy's touch. Crusher was right, and he gave her a tired smile as he closed his eyes.

It was worth it.

~The End~


End file.
